Author's Note: I saw this picture in my head one day, so I wrote it down. I've been seeing other little pictures of Narnia lately, so I'll write those down and post them here over time. It'll be my photo-album of Narnia, I guess.

This first one may lean a little towards Pirates of Calormen - type imagery, but oh well. Enjoy!

As the man stared at the cloud, he willed his keen dark eyes to see the shape in it. He knew it was there, but he did not know if it was no longer white. Putting a hand on the railing, he steadied himself as the sea-swells shook the ship. His skin was burnt brown by not only the sun, but also the virtue of his race.

"My master, there is land in sight!" cried a voice from above.

But the man didn't look up. He'd known for a long time that they were approaching their destination; he didn't need to know that the land was there; he needed to know what it was like.

The last time he'd sailed up this coast, he'd been greeted by a penetrating cold and a werewolf of stone, perched upon the skeleton of a man – the last sailor who had dared venture there.

So it was with anxiety that he started to make out the features of this northern land as the ship made its slow way in from the sea.

Timbers creaked; the vessel tilted as a gust of air pulled at its sails, and he blinked; surely he was imagining it...

The ship steadied, and he gasped. The land was green! It was green and fresh and lovely, and on its edge there shone a great palace, as if the morning star itself had come to rest on these brilliant shores. This now was the land called Narnia.

It was beautiful and perfect, a succulent fruit on the vine, fresh for the picking.

The man's lips twisted in a greedy smile. So the reports had been true. The Witch had been vanquished, and Narnia was good – oh, so good!

And he could hardly wait for it to be his.

Bloodred sails rose above the Narnian horizon.

Sordeeb Tarkaan of Calormen had arrived.

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